Finding Life
by ZutaraDramione97
Summary: This is a concept-ased Harry Potter/Hunger Games crossover. There are no HG characters in this story. Please read Tournament of Magic before continuing! After surviving the deadly Tournament of Magic, the survivor(s) must learn to find what life is again. They must learn to live with their own betrayals, heartbreaks, deaths, and murders. Will they succeed?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hi! So, I'm ZutaraDramione97. I'm begging you, please do not read past this point if you have not yet read the first installment: Tournament of Magic. Please go read that first before returning here! If you have read the first installment, please not this one was posted 1 year after the first one exactly! That just makes me happy. Anyway, thank you for reading and please be sure to leave reviews! Please avoid spoilers in reviews and feel free to message me questions, additional comments, etc! -ZutaraDramione97-

Chapter 1 Draco

I clawed the remainder of my tears away from my eyes. Secretly I hoped it would also bring back the sanity I must have lost. Hermione was standing just feet away. And so were all f the other tributes. I couldn't have been sane. I'd watched most of them die. I'd killed four of them. It wasn't possible.

Several new chairs appeared on the stage and all of the tributes came up to take their seats, along with the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Penelope turned to the Minister first, "Minister Shacklebolt, please explain the Tournament of Magic's creation to us."

The man nodded to Penelope with a smile, "Of course Ms. Clearwater. Well, as originally explained, the Tournament of Magic was created to curb the creation of future dark wizards and witches. The premise that was kept from the public was the concept that these deaths were just an example of what would happen should another dark wizard rise. Should another dark wizard come to power, then it shows that the people have not learnt the lesson meant with these games, and then, from that point forward, the Tournament of Magic will be a permanent installment, and the deaths will not be reversed."

The audience hung on every word that the Minister spoke, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from Hermione. She was here. She was actually here. She was alive.

All of the other tributes were silent as the conversation continued between the Minister and reporter. Most of them were distant, some were very jittery, and then there were the ones who seemed unfazed by anything.

I heard the next question from the reporter and it piqued my interest, as I wanted to know too. "Minister, how are the tributes here? We all watched them die, did we not?"

"Ah, yes. The big question everyone is wondering. Indeed, these twenty-three tributes did indeed die. Their deaths were not faked, staged, or stopped. However, the aspect that was hidden from the cameras was the fact that immediately following the deaths, officials entered the arena to remove the body. We discovered potions and spells to assist in reviving them, without the effects of necromancy. After pulling the tributes from the arena, we used traditional methods to repair serious injuries, then enhanced these treatments with magic, and then used our newly created potions to revive the hearts. Many of the tributes still require physical healing, but they are alive."

I could tell what he meant. Several people had arms in slings, Crabbe and Loony both had several burns, and many others just looked beaten up. The earlier someone had died, the more they had healed.

Hermione still had scrapes and cuts across her face, and her arm was in a sling, but beyond that, she looked fine. She was alive. That's what mattered.

I finally looked to Mrs. Weasley to see tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. Of course she was happy. Her children were still alive. What parent wouldn't be happy? And then I laughed inwardly to myself. I knew a parent who wouldn't be happy with their child being alive. My father. I knew he hated me right now. I'd already thought it was worth it, but seeing Hermione made it all the more worth it.

I so badly wanted to run to her and hug her, just hold her. She was alive.

Suddenly the screen behind the stage came to life and Penelope spoke again, "Now, everyone, we'll be re-watching the Tournament of Magic so that all of the tributes get to see what they all went through."

My stomach clenched. I didn't want to see what everyone went through. I didn't want everyone to see what I went through. I knew some things had already been seen, but the fact was, I didn't want to relive it. And neither did anyone else.

The video started off with the opening day. Everyone either fought, ran, or died when they landed. I was surprised to see how many people literally died as soon as they hit the ground.

The video went through some more deaths, each one visibly wounding the person shown dying. It showed each group forming, including me joining my housemates.

There was a scene where the Weasley girl watched Hermione and Potter kiss. I looked at the two of them who were visibly confused. I would have been sad had Hermione not looked so confused. Weaselette on the other hand looked fuming angry.

It continued on to show the encounter between the Slytherins and Hermione's friends. I was surprised to see that the cameras had caught me staring right at Hermione when I said she wasn't in my direction.

I remembered that very well. I saw her. Of course I saw her, she wasn't hid well at all! But I wasn't going to hurt her, and I wanted her to know it.

Then came the part where I killed Weaselette. Potter and Weasel were both very confused, and very angry when they watched the scene unfold. I was sure they were confused about why she was attacking Hermione, but angry that Hermione lied to them.

I felt Potter's pain when he held the girl and cried. I'd had to do the same. The pain of holding the body of someone you loved was one I would never forget.

As the video continued, I was surprised to see how many of the moments between Hermione and I were caught on camera. I felt as if my privacy had been entirely invaded. Some of those were moments just between she and I, and they should have stayed that way. But there was one thing I couldn't deny as I watched the video, I had obviously loved Hermione. The fact that it took me so long to realize it currently astounded me.

The video began to near its end as people began dying more and more. I was surprised to see how Potter had died, being led into the woods by Weaselette and then strangled by Devil's Snare.

My stomach clenched again as I realized it was the last day of the video and Hermione and I were walking to the final battle.

I looked to her and saw her clenching and unclenching her teeth as she watched. I wanted to hold her hand and tell her everything was alright. I didn't want to watch the upcoming scene, but I couldn't look away from the video.

And then it showed the fight. We'd all been fighting so hard, so fast, and then came the dominos crashing down, beginning with me killing Goyle.

I watched Hermione go down and felt my eyes tearing up. I knew they would be falling soon, and I knew there would be no stopping them. I cried every time I thought about Hermione dying, I wasn't going to be able to watch it.

I looked over to her and saw her look back at me for the first time since entering the Quidditch Pitch. Her eyes were sad and hurt.

I took a deep breath and tried to choke down my tears as I watched the video continue. I saw myself beating Pansy, and then the sparks as she died. I'd been so angry in that moment, and nearly happy at her death.

And then came Hermione. I didn't just watch myself hold her and cry, I felt it. I felt my pain again.

My mother reached over suddenly and squeezed my hand. I realized I was crying now, and then I felt my chest tighten. I couldn't breathe as I watched myself plunge the knife into Hermione's heart.

Thankfully, the video went black after a few seconds of me holding her and screaming and crying. I felt so vulnerable. I felt so lost. I felt like I was alone again.

I scrubbed at my tears again to try and make them stop, and soon, they did. When I looked at the other tributes, several had dried tears on their cheeks, and several more looked angry.

Penelope turned to the Minister again, "Minister, I believe some of us are confused, do you care to elaborate on some of the tricks used in the tournament?"

"Yes, yes of course. The first creature encountered was that of the Hippogriff. This creature was specifically engineered to be more hostile and carnivorous than the common hippogriff. Followed by the hippogriff came the boggart. There were several released throughout the arena. Along with the boggarts were ghosts magically enhanced to look like other people. This was the case with Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger, specifically assigned to taunt Ms. Weasley. This same tactic was used with the ghost that led Mr. Potter into the Devil's Snare."

It was enraging to see the man talking so casually about the things that tried to kill us, and even did kill some of us, in the arena.

"We also obviously planted Devil's Snare and quicksand bogs, and dementors throughout the arena. The storms were created by us, along with the differing weather between night and day. We did drive tributes together with the various events, the fire, mudslide, and snakes. And those were our tricks. Anything beyond that was the tributes themselves. Hunger and fear can change a person. And many of them did just that."

Penelope gave the Minister a polite smile before stating, "For my final question Minister, what will happen to these tributes next?"

"Well, they will all have a bit of time to re-unite with families, who were not aware of their survival until this reveal, and then they will return to their classes as usual."

I suddenly felt very, very angry. As usual? How did they expect us to go back to business as usual after the hell we'd gone through!?

 ** _Author's Note 2: I will be updating this story every Saturday, hopefully, as opposed to sporadic updates in the first one! -ZutaraDramione97-_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Hermione

It'd had been an impossibly long week, starting with waking up gasping for air and feeling as though my entire body was on fire. I hadn't remembered anything for the first hour or two, but then things began coming back to me. The last thing I remembered was Draco stabbing me in the heart.

I knew he'd done it for a reason, but I couldn't remember why. I knew I'd felt some kind of connection to him, but I couldn't remember exactly what it had been. I just remembered him in general, and spending a lot of time with him. Many of my memories of emotions towards people had been foggy through the week.

Different healers had come in through the week to make sure I was healing alright, but nobody would answer my questions. Was Draco alright? Was anyone else alive? What had entirely happened? Why was I alive?

Then came the day of the interview. I was ushered to the Quidditch Pitch by an unknown healer, and I was met by everyone else who had died in the arena. They had us lined up in the order we had died in.

We were all quiet, I was unsure if it was shock and disbelief, or something else.

I could hear Draco, Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Malfoy on the stage talking with Penelope Clearwater. I felt my heart clench when I heard Draco choke up, almost undoubtedly crying. I felt a strong urge to hug him and tell him everything was alright. This surprised me, as I still didn't really remember why he'd plunged a knife into my heart.

And suddenly, it was time for the world to know. Time for them to know we were alive.

A few ministry officials, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, led the line into the pitch. The former tributes followed, in order, one by one. I stepped into the light and made instant eye contact with Draco. Tears streamed down his cheeks and I saw him mouth my name, disbelief written all over his face.

I was ushered to a seat in front of the stage along with my fellow tributes. We listened in silence to the conversations with the minister until the replay of the tournament began. I stole glances at my peers to see that they too were being reminded of the events of the past few weeks, accompanied by the new knowledge of events we all went through.

I paid attention to Harry and Ron, but my main focus was on Draco. I saw him wipe a few tears from his eyes as he tried to keep a straight face, but I could tell how upset he was.

As I watched the replay, I began to remember not just the events, but, finally, my feelings n those events. And then I remembered. I remembered my connection to Draco. I loved him.

My eyes widened in shock and I rapidly glanced around until I found Draco. He was focused on watching the replay. I knew what he was saying when I had been under the stands waiting to enter. He was saying he loved me. I loved him! And he loved me! But, how? Why? He'd killed me.

I wiped a few stray tears from my eyes and continued to watch the replay, hoping to see the reason. And it came. I begged him. I begged him to kill me. I was in pain and dying. And I wanted him, Draco Malfoy, the one I'd fallen in love with, to live.

The replay finally ended and the Minister answered some more questions before stating that we would be expected to go back to life as usual. I was horrified. How were we supposed to continue as if nothing had ever happened to us? We'd died! I'd died!

I felt angry and hurt. I wanted nothing more than to go on as if nothing happened. I wanted to scream and cry all at the same time.

Penelope concluded the interview by thanking everyone for their time and dismissed the Minister. She then asked for the crowd to begin vacating. They did just that.

It was obvious everyone wanted to talk to all of the tributes, find out how we were doing, ask all their questions, but they were being led out by teachers and prefects.

I noticed there was one section of the stands still seated and unmoving, but they were too far away to make out any faces until they were led down onto the pitch and towards us.

I managed to find a group of redheads, quite obviously the Weasleys, and then other faces began to emerge in the crowd. I found Mrs. Longbottom, and then Mr. Lovegood and others. And finally, my own parents.

Parents and siblings began embracing each other, crying heard all around. I caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Ginny being embraced before my own parents nearly crushed me in a hug.

My mother wept openly as she whispered, "I'm so sorry honey. You shouldn't have gone through that. I wish we could have protected you." My father hugged me and my mother tightly in silence, tears falling softly.

My parents held me forever, their tightness unwavering until my father pulled me even closer and scowled. I was unsure why until I pried myself from his grip so I could turn and see the person his glare was directed at.

I was met with a stormy grey gaze wet with fresh tears. My father still held my shoulders protectively until I pushed them away and ran towards Draco, fresh tears falling from my eyes. I must have caught him entirely off-guard, as he nearly lost his footing, managing to regain it just before falling.

He wrapped me in his arms tightly, like he had so many times in the arena, yet also so different. This wasn't an embrace of fear. This was one of happiness and knowing. He was here. And I was here. And we were both breathing.

He buried his face in my hair, and mine in his chest. He whispered softly, "I am so sorry."

I hugged him tighter, "Don't be."

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I will never hurt you again."

"I trust you."

There was a calm silence between us until I heard him whisper, almost inaudibly, "I love you Hermione. I shouldn't, but I do. A lot."

I gave a single soft chuckle before pulling away to whisper back, just as quietly, "I love you too Draco."

I saw his eyes light a little bit, but still filled with remorse, before he hugged me again and gave me a kiss on my head.

He let go of me, reluctantly, as more people came to say hello. I turned and found the group of gingers and Harry.

Harry and Ron stayed back and stayed quiet, but Ginny ran forward and hugged me, "Hermione, I am so sorry. I can't apologize to you enough for what I did. I…" She suddenly began choking on some tears before continuing, "I tried to kill you. I…I let the arena get to me. I went crazy! Please, please forgive me!"

I gave her a soft hug. I wanted to forgive her, but, how many times would she have trouble trusting me again? She'd tried to kill me because she thought I kissed Harry. How many times had she not believed me before?

I nodded slightly, "I do." But I couldn't find it in me to entirely believe the words. She looked to Draco with a blank stare before turning and retreating with Harry and Ron.

And then the rest of the Weasleys were hugging me all at once.

As the reunions began to die down, I got to give a quick hug to Luna and Neville before being approached by Narcissa Malfoy.

She gave me a smile, a tear falling down her cheek, "Thank you dear."

I was confused, "For what?"

"For protecting my son, and for being honest with him. I completely trust that he loves you. And I trust that you'll look after him. I thank you for caring for him."

She stepped forward hesitantly before giving me a small hug. I returned it awkwardly.

And then it was time to leave. Many families were travelling home by apparating and portkey, but mine would be traveling home by ministry car. I looked forward to going home, but I also dreaded it. How could I possibly act like everything was normal?

 ** _Author's Note: Hey guys! I know you probably hate me fr not updating in so long! I am so beyond sorry! Life has been very, very, very crazy the past month with holidays, a family emergency, shopping, work, and trying to enroll in online school. Oh! And my internet being shut off! Anyway, thank you for your patience and I hope you still give Finding Life a chance! On another note! I hope everyone had happy holidays! -ZutaraDramione97-_**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Hermione

The ride home was a quiet one. Both of my parents sat on either side of me and kept one arm wrapped around my shoulders at all times. I felt relief that I was going home for a bit, and relief that I was no longer in the arena, but I couldn't shake the fear.

Since I woke up, I'd constantly felt like someone was watching my every move. I felt like I had to hide and burrow down from prying eyes. But the logical side of myself knew everything was fine. I was out of the arena, and I was safe.

The ministry car cloaked itself when we neared Muggle London before dropping us off in our backyard. My parents led me through the back door, still keeping one hand on my shoulders, almost as if I would vanish if they let go of their hold on me.

I looked around the kitchen, surprised to see they had repainted. They'd said something about the possibility of changing the color from the canary yellow, but obviously I'd been more worried about other things.

My mother opened the fridge and rummaged through for a moment before asking me, "Hermione dear, are you hungry? What would you like for dinner? I'll make whatever sounds good to you."

I thought for a moment before shrugging, "I'm not very hungry mum. I'm sorry. I think I'm just going to go ahead and turn in for the night. It's been a long day."

It was barely seven, so it was quite early for bed, but I just didn't know how to tell my parents I wanted to be alone. I'd been alone a lot in the past week, aside from healers in and out of my room, but I just couldn't deal with the looks my parents kept giving me. Their eyes showed their deep sorrow and pity that they couldn't protect me. I knew they blamed themselves, but they could blame nobody.

My father looked at me from his seat at the kitchen table, "Are you sure? It's awfully early for bed."

I nodded and spoke softly, "Yeah, it's just been a really exhausting day."

He gave a reassuring smile with a nod, "Okay sweetheart. We'll make dinner, and the leftovers will be in the fridge if you get hungry. We'll talk more tomorrow."

I nodded softly, before turning for the hall towards my bedroom. I knew they wanted to know how I was doing, but I just couldn't deal with it at the moment. The thought of answering questions made me feel sick to my stomach and caused my head to spin. I couldn't even answer my own questions, let alone someone else's.

As I entered my room, I breathed a sigh of relief as I found it exactly the way I'd left it. I'd always been one who did well with change, but even the slight change of the kitchen from yellow to beige had bothered me deeply.

I sat down on my bed, still entirely numb, and pulled my pillow into my arms. I'm not sure how long I sat like that, just grasping my pillow at staring at the pictures on my bulletin board before I realized the tears falling from my cheeks.

I wanted nothing more than to feel okay again. I wanted to be okay, not just feel it. I wanted the past month wiped from my memory so everything could go back to normal, but at the same time, I wanted to keep some of those moments forever.

As much as I hated the tournament, it had helped me make a friend. It had helped me fall in love. I still couldn't fathom how or why I'd fallen in love with Draco Malfoy, but it had all happened because of the tournament.

And then I felt a pain in my chest. Yes, I loved Draco, but could I really trust him? Not only had he tormented me through school, but he had also killed me. Yes, it was at my request. But would he have done it anyway?

The tears stopped falling finally and I lay in my bed, numb and silent, staring at the ceiling until I fell into a restless sleep.

 _ **Author's Note: I wish to apologize to you all for taking so long to update! I had a horrible writer's block, accompanied by a lot happening in life while my boyfriend and I got our first house and found we'll be having our first baby, and starting college again, plus having a horrible work schedule. I'm happy to inform that the writer's block has come to a temporary end, and I look forward to updating while I can! Thank you so much for sticking with me guys, and I look forward to continuing Finding Life while my life experiences persuade and inspire me to continue Dramione's lives! Glad to be back in action! -ZutaraDramione97-**_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Draco

I'd been home for a few hours, but I still felt lost. I hated Malfoy Manor after everything that had happened there the previous year, but I hated it even more after the arena.

In my childhood the home had been a playground and a happy place. After the manor had become headquarters to Voldemort, it became dark. While the décor remained the same as always, the halls had shadows of past, present, and future. And then came the day the Snatchers had brought the trio to our home.

That day had haunted my nightmares since it happened. My childhood home had already been changing, but to see someone I personally knew, be tortured and threatened, had been horrifying. I felt even worse now.

But after the arena, the whole house screamed danger and for me to hide in every nook and cranny I found. I couldn't be out like this. I had to hide! Everywhere I looked there were suits of armor and coats of arms. Those simple decorations held so much blood, danger, and horror in my mind. With each sword I had a memory of someone being stabbed. With every flick of my eyes to peer for danger, I heard a scream or a cry. My home felt like a prison.

I was currently hiding in my room, too confused and angry to risk running into my father. I felt so angry at everything. They'd made us re-watch the horrors we'd endured in the arena, and by doing so, they'd made us relive them. And then returning to the manor and finding so many items that reminded me of the Tournament, all I could think about was screaming as I ran through the house and destroyed everything I found that reminded me of my pain. And running into my father would only add fuel to the fire. He hated me. And I hated him.

A soft knock sounded at my door followed by a soft, "Draco, are you awake?"

I took a deep breath, debating if I really wanted any visitors before answering, "Yes."

My mother slowly opened the door and entered my room cautiously. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Her eyes signaled that she knew the truth, I was far from fine, but she stayed silent.

She chose to sit down on my bed beside me before speaking. "Your father will come around Draco."

"No, mother, he won't. I've officially betrayed everything he has believed his entire life, everything he's taught me, everything he killed to protect! He will never 'come around'."

She nodded silently. I knew she believed differently, that he would indeed come around to the idea of me being in love with Hermione, a muggleborn, but I never would. He was a vile, cruel man, and I regretted so much ever thinking I wanted to be like my father.

We sat in silence for a bit before she asked me, "Would you like to talk about Hermione?"

I thought for a moment. Thinking about her, especially being alive, brought a soft ease to my reeling mind, but it also brought a deep pain. I'd killed her after all. I finally settled on simply shaking my head. I wanted to continue in my silence.

She nodded again before standing to leave my room, "I shall have your dinner brought up for you"

I sighed before quietly replying, "No thank you. I'm not hungry." She nodded again and left my room at last. I loved my mother, and I knew she wanted to help me, but I needed to be alone.

As much as I wanted to be alone, I also wished I had some company. Not my mother, as she would never understand how I was feeling, but a friend. I wanted the company of someone who knew the hell I'd been through. I wanted Hermione.

Suddenly there were tears streaming down my cheeks for the millionth time that day. I so badly wanted to hold her in my arms again, to know she was actually alive and actually alright. I wanted someone to talk to about how I felt, someone who wouldn't look at me with pity. Someone to hold me back and just let me listen to them breathing. Someone I loved.

I'd contemplated writing her a letter, or even trying to go to her, but I knew the idea was a bad one. She lived in muggle London. Was she even allowed to receive owls there? Was that a common thing? And, obviously, I had no idea where she lived, or of finding the info.

I suddenly remembered her fireplace message to her parents, a soft smile coming to my lips when I thought about her happiness at getting to speak to them, but the address was far from memory, a lot had happened since then after all.

I soon fell asleep, but the night was far from peaceful as my dreams were haunted by tears, screams, and bloodshed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Hermione

I woke early the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen. I sighed deeply. My bed was so comfortable, I couldn't leave it so soon, could I? It'd been so long since I'd slept in, not only a comfortable bed, but MY bed.

I finally forced myself from under the covers and looked in the mirror. My face had changed so much from before I left home for the school year. When I left, my eyes had been so full of wonder, excitement. Now they were empty and void of life, dark bags lining the bottoms. My cheeks had sunken from thirst, exhaustion, and hunger in the arena. But the biggest differences were the scars and still seemingly fresh cuts lining my face. My eyes found my chest in the mirror, and I stared at the fabric hiding the biggest, most life altering scar of them all. I knew scars faded over time, but the gashes in my chest from where I'd taken knives for Draco would never fade, the knife to save his life and the knife to end my own. Both were forever a piece of me and my story.

My door opened silently as my mother entered, causing me to jump. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to scare you. I came to let you know that breakfast is ready. Bacon, eggs, and pancakes, your favorite!"

I gave a soft smile accompanied by a nod, "I'll be right down mum. Thank you." She gave me a nod and turned to leave the room. Before she could turn down the hall, I called out, "Mum!" She turned around, concern written clearly in her questioning expression, "I love you."

She beamed a smile back at me, "I love you too Hermione." I meant what I'd said, I loved my mother. And my father for that matter! But I couldn't help but feel lost in my own home. I wasn't sure where I belonged anymore. Was I supposed to be at Hogwarts? Home? Or maybe I was just supposed to have remained dead? The dead weren't to be brought back among the living after all. Not even magic was supposed to mess with the nature of death, but yet it had.

I took one more look at myself in the mirror before making my way down the stairs to our kitchen. My dad was sitting and reading the muggle paper while my mum made our plates. Dad sat down the paper and gave me a smile, "How are you Mione? Feeling alright this morning?"

I nodded and gave a convincing smile, "Yes, much better. I must've just been exhausted last night was all." He nodded to my answer and took another look at the paper. "Don't you both have work today?"

The clock above the kitchen sink showed 8:30, and my parents' dental clinic typically opened at 8.

Mum shook her head as she sat down beside me, "No, we went ahead and closed for week, told Regina we had a family emergency come up and must take the week off."

Regina was my parents' secretary for their clinic, had been for as long as I could remember. She'd always been kind to me and my family along with my parents' patients. "But, won't that hurt your business?"

My father chuckled, "Oh dear, ever so thoughtful of others' work. No Hermione, it won't hurt us so bad that we can't close up for a few days. We haven't gone on holiday to spend time with you in quite some time, I think we all needed the time off. And Regina is being paid compensation for the time off as well."

I nodded slowly. I knew my parents wanted to spend the time with me, but they really should return to work in the next day or two, as opposed to taking the whole week off. I knew they loved their jobs, and people needed them in the office as well.

As I began to eat, I couldn't help but realize how much my mouth was watering. Even though I'd been out of the arena for a few days, food was still something I couldn't get enough of when I wasn't so sick to my stomach that I couldn't eat. I would never forget the feeling of my stomach being empty, or rationing seeds and berries, and would never take food for granted again.

We ate in silence for a bit until my father finally broke it with something I didn't want to talk about, "So, this Draco, is he the one you used to talk about when you were little?"

My heart wanted to jump at the mention of Draco, but the impending dread of the conversation caused my stomach to sink instead, "Yes, actually. He is."

He nodded and my mother looked over at me now, "The one who was mean to you all the time?"

I nodded softly, "Yeah."

My father's eyes darkened with irritation, "Hermione, you used to send us letters with tearstains because of his teasing. You even cried over the summer when you thought about how cruel he was to you!"

I nodded again, "Yes. But he's changed."

My mother looked towards me sympathetically as my father continued, "Clearly he hasn't changed as much as you think. Seeing as how the end of that Tournament went."

My eyes narrowed instantly, "Don't talk about that." I knew what he was saying. Draco couldn't have changed as much as he appeared if he was willing to kill people. Kill me. It was something I'd thought about over and over again. I myself couldn't figure out how I'd managed to fall in love with him, or how I could still care about him after he KILLED ME! How was I supposed to explain my feelings to my parents?

My mother's hand took hold of my own and squeezed it softly, "Sweetheart, your father is just worried about you. The way you acted yesterday towards this boy you obviously care about him. But, does he really care about you?" And, there it was. My number one question. Was it all an act? Obviously people would forgive him if he acted out of love as opposed to rage and wanting to win, needing to survive.

Dad's eyes had softened again, and he took my hand before replying, "Exactly. I don't want you to get hurt by this boy again Hermione. I don't think it's possible for someone to change that much. And I'm afraid for you. He's hurt you so many times! You were hurt as a child time and time again, and then he hurt you in that arena, and I, as your father, cannot forgive that."

I knew what he meant. He didn't mean Draco had hurt me, he meant Draco had literally killed me. Not emotionally, though some of the events in the arena had done that as well, but physically. My heart had stopped beating. And it was by Draco's hand. Could I really love someone who had done that to me? And could I blame my father for being unable to forgive him?

I finally felt the tears falling from my eyes and took a deep breath as my parents gave me a tight embrace, "I don't know either." And that was the only thing I knew for sure, that I didn't know. But did I really want to know?


	6. Chapter 6

**_Author's Note: I wish to apologize deeply to the fans who I've left hanging for so long! I had a very hectic summer. This included a deep depression and loads of anxiety which made it very hard to write. I'm sorry for the delay, but I am hopefully back in action! Though updates will still be irregular due to the birth of my son, who now starts screaming every time I even think about touching my laptop. lol._**

 ** _I also wish to inform you all of upcoming content of the story that may not be for the faint of heart. This story will contain a high amount of depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other mental conditions which could be associated with traumatic experiences. Reader discression is advised. I will be drawing from research along with personal experiences._**

 ** _Characters may act "weaker" than their canon forms, but this is due to the traumas they have incurred. Please do not judge, but please let me know if you feel I do a character injustice. Please leave comments of both constructive criticism and love alike. Thank you. -ZutaraDramione97-_**

Chapter 6 Draco

I had been in my room since I'd returned home. I honestly had no idea how long it had been. A day or two? Maybe a week? I had no clue, and really didn't care. My mother made sure my meals were brought to me each day, but most of them sat relatively uneaten aside from a few bites here and there to keep me nourished. I'd lost weight, and my hair stayed disheveled on y head.

My mother knocked on my door for the millionth time, "Draco dear? Will you please come out? I haven't seen your face in ages." I stayed silent, nearly fearing how my voice would sound if I attempted to use it. I hadn't spoken to anyone since the last time I'd spoken to my mother shortly after arriving home. How long ago had that even been?

I could hear my mother sigh before my locks on my door began to unclick. She walked into the room and was taken aback.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You look dreadful!" I knew she was right. But wasn't entirely sure how awful I looked until I looked in the mirror for the first time since being home. My eyes had dark bags and my cheeks were pale and sunken. I hadn't looked this bad since I was mending the vanishing cabinet in my sixth year.

I'd never thought I could be more mentally traumatized, more broken, more helpless than I had that year. But I'd been beyond wrong. I'd thought the arena had been even worse. But now, being in my home where screams seemed to echo around every corner, danger hiding in every shadow, that was worse. So, so much worse.

"Draco, you need to go shower. You've been in here for a week. You obviously haven't been eating. I can tell you haven't bathed. And your color is dreadful! You must get out of this room!"

I kept my head hung. I knew she was right. But, how? How was I supposed to do those things? My voice came out a rasp after being silent aside from my screams while sleeping, "But how?"

I saw tears spring to my mother's eyes, "Draco dear, you have to forgive yourself. You did what you had to do to survive! That's all! You had to do those things son. And everyone from that arena did terrible things to do the same thing- survive. And now, even after it all, you are all alive! You're all miraculously alive! Celebrate! Enjoy the second chances and live!"

She was right, she almost always was. "But how?" My mother looked at me slightly confused before I continued, "How does it go on? Life, I mean. How do we just…go back to normal? What is life after having to constantly look over your shoulder, fearing for your life? I can still feel my heart hammering, constantly afraid someone is going to jump from a tree and murder me. I can't even fathom sleep. Not only do I see the things I did, my worst nightmares repeating themselves, but I'm still afraid that if I close my eyes, I'm going to die. I'm going to let my guard down, and be killed for my stupidity."

My mother came to me and embraced me then. She held me tight as I contemplated everything I'd just said. I meant every word was what hurt most. I really didn't know how to live anymore.

I didn't want to d anything. I couldn't force myself to do anything. I didn't know what I even wanted anymore. All I wanted was to turn back time and make it so I never would have been in the Tournament of Magic.

She finally pulled away, "You take it one day, one step, one little thing at a time. And you pride yourself on that. Because, sometimes that's what you have to do to keep moving, and keep living. Take it one little step at a time, and be happy for that step. And the tiny step I suggest you start with my boy, is a shower. Your hair is a mess, and the only thing keeping you from smelling is magic." She gave me a small smile then. And I forced one back.

One small step. One small step at a time.


End file.
